Challenges | @thisartificialheart

thisartificialheart:

iamthefirechild:

thisartificialheart:

“Man of many talents. And please, it’s Tony. Mr. Stark was my father and there’s really no quicker way to kill the mood than to remind me of him…” His voice trailed off as she switched her attentions to his neck.

“Mm, yes, lots of wanting. You’re heading in the right direction.” Tony smirked and pulled her onto his lap, his hands sliding up under her skirt to trace her legs.

Summer chuckled, breaking into a little giggle at the end when he pulled her into his lap. “Hello, Tony,” she murmured into his collarbone, arching her back as his hands found her ankles. “Hmmm, just there, that’s nice.” Hands came up to steady herself on his shoulders, and she leaned back enough to see his face, smiling. “I would like to /make/ it to the bedroom.”

“We’ll make it there eventually. Or is that a request to keep my hands off of you until then?’ He smirked and squeezed one of her legs to emphasize that he was really here as his hands skirted further up along her skin. 

“Happy has seen me do far worse things than just some necking in the backseat anyway.”

“Should I be curious?” She didn’t really give him a chance to answer, dipping in for a lip-biting, open-mouthed kiss. Summer slid her hands up into his hair, tugging gently and drawing her nails along his scalp. When she finally turned him loose, she reached behind her head and swiftly coiled the length of her hair into a loose rope that she placed behind his head. “There is no escape,” she teased.

He returned the kiss hungrily, tongue dancing against hers as he nipped at her lips. “Mmm, probably not. Maybe a little horrified, even.” His breath caught in his throat and he melted underneath her as she discovered one of his weaknesses.

“I don’t really see why I’d want to escape, considering I have a lap full of a fiesty redhead.”

“I really sincerely doubt you can horrify me with tales of your sexual escapades anymore than you can outfly me,” Summer sniggered. Leaving her hair looped around his neck, she threaded her fingers into that glorious dark hair again. “Now what was just now that turned you to putty in my hands?” she murmured, mostly rhetorically, curling nails against his scalp. “Can I make you abandon control?”